Incarcerated Caffrey
by BayBeBlue
Summary: What would Neal's life have been like in Prison? I have been watching Prison Break and it has got me thinking about what the charming and confident Neal Caffrey would have experienced in the Pen. Let's face it, he's not exactly a violent type, so he was bound to face trouble at some point. This fic explores the possibilities.
1. Chapter 1

I have often wondered what Neal could have gone through in Prison, you know with his pretty face and all. I have been watching Prison Break and that is what caused this idea to develop. Also Neal is by far not a violent person, so I imagine he may have faced a lot of difficult situations. This is just my exploration into his life as an inmate.

So I am not really done with my other story A Brothers Search yet. But this idea has been itching in my head to get out for a couple of weeks now so I just decided to start it.

This actually takes place after a Brothers Search, after Peter and Neal learned they are brothers. So if you don't know what's going on in the beginning, you can read the last few chapters of that and it will pretty well give you what you need.

But this is more of a flash back piece to what Neal might have experienced while in Prison.

I sadly don't own the show nor the characters. But I love to write about them.

* * *

Chapter One: Guilty

Peter sat across from Neal in his office at the FBI Head Quarters. Neal was reading through a file Peter had handed him on their current case. His thoughts kept tracing back to the conversation he had with his father the night before. John had finally told Peter everything that happened that night at the BallPark. The night Neal's polished guise had crumpled. The night Neal allowed himself to be seen by Peter's father.

Neal was excellent at hiding himself from the world. But there where times when he dropped the mask, and Peter saw inside. He remembered back to the first time he ever saw Neal drop is disguise. It was the first time he visited him in Prison.

He had received a card from Neal requesting him to visit. He had received several cards from Neal, but this was the first card that made a request like that. He planned on ignoring it, tossing it aside, pretending it was just like the other cards he had received from the inmate. He had closed the chapter on Neal Caffrey, no point in revisiting it. But despite his best efforts to forget, there was something in the words written that pulled Peter back to the card, again and again. He read it every night for weeks before he finally decided to pay the conman a visit.

When they escorted Neal into the visitation room where Peter sat waiting, Peter noticed he was not the usual carefree Caffrey. He had a black eye and a busted lip. Neal smiled at Peter as he entered the room, cold hand cuffs bound his wrist. Peter frowned as he looked at the young man. He no longer saw the Charming Conman. He was looking at a young man, a broken young man. Instantly Peter's demeanor changed. He went from proudly starring down at this conquered criminal, to looking upon him with concerned. He couldn't remember what exactly he had asked Neal, but he never forgot Neal's reply. "Please, get me out of here, Peter." His voice was sincere, and filled with pain.

Then just as Peter saw Neal's guard fall completely down, he saw it rapidly replaced with a suave smile as Neal continued, "I mean it's great and all. You know with all the fine wine and food. But I don't belong here. You know that."

And just as Neal put up that solid wall around him again, Peter did the same. Their moment of genuine, true, unfiltered emotion had passed. As quickly as it had shown through, it had disappeared. And they where back to Agent vs Criminal. Peter left that day determined Neal would remain behind bars until he had served his entire sentence.

Now though about all the things that had happened since then. Everything they had discovered about each other. Peter wanted to see the real Neal again. He wanted to see what his father saw that night. "Neal, my dad told me about what happened that night."

Neal slowly rose his head and looked at Peter, "He did?"

"Yeah."

Neal smiled, "And, let me guess, you're worried about me?"

Peter shook his head, "No. I just like the fact that, once in a while, the real you comes out."

Neal chuckled, "The real me. And you've seen the real me?"

"Remember the first time I ever visited you in prison? You asked me to get you out."

Neal cast his eyes down at the floor, "Yeah." His voice was soft and almost escaped Peter's ears.

"That was the first time I ever saw the real you. What happened to you in Prison Neal? What caused you to show that side of you?"

Neal almost flinched at the question. That was a part of his life he prayed he would forget. Peter did not know what he was asking. Neal could never tell Peter. But as he stared down at the file in his hand, it almost looked as if it where replaying those years on the pages before him. His mind raced through his thoughts, carrying painful memories with it.

* * *

"We, the jury, find the defendant, Neal Caffrey, to be "guilty" of the charge of First Degree Forgery in the state of New York."

Neal felt his heart drop as he heard the word "guilty", sure he had a feeling it was coming. But to actually hear it was surreal. He swallowed hard and no matter how hard he tried he could not force the smile that all was going to be fine. He looked over and saw Peter, the Agent that captured him, the Agent that testified against him. He was sitting in the audience, his arms crossed over his chest. He had a smile of victory across his lips. Despite Peter Burke's persistence, his uncanny ability to some how read Neal's next move, to send him behind bars, he had admiration for the older man.

Peter was respected. The Agent had a way that forced respect from others. And it was respect for who he was, not who he pretended to be. Neal admired that, because even though he himself had been able to gain respect, it was all based on a lie. His respect was derived from a fake place.

Neal looked passed Peter and his eyes fell upon Sarah. She had also testified against him, calling him a liar, a thief, and a sociopath. Of those things, two where true, yes he was a liar, and yes he was a thief, but he was not a sociopath. He had a conscience, he had just learned how to ignore it. He felt love, he just learned how to hide it. He had managed to put up a front for others, a front that from someone on the outside looking in would have believed her, would have believed Neal Caffrey to be a sociopath. But if they where on the inside looking out, they would know that was far from the truth. And somehow, Peter had managed to get a small glimpse inside Neal. He just hoped he would never forget what he had seen.

The judge issued Neal's sentence, four years, four years behind bars. In a level one security prison, filled with criminals from all walks of the life, not only thieves, but rapists, murderers, and pedophiles, people that had committed unimaginable crimes. All of whom Neal hated, detested. He did not belong among these hardened criminals.

Once he arrived at the place he would call home for the next four years, the first person he met was his cell mate, Levi Easton. He was a tall medium built man, he was a few years older than Neal. He looked to be in his mid thirties. He had dark hair, his green eyes looked as if they held a secret. As Neal walked into the cell the man offered a crooked smile. "I'm Levi."

Neal sat his bedding that he carried into the cell down on the bed. He turned to face the man, his charming smile crept across his lips, "Neal."

The guard shut the cell door behind Neal as he turned to leave.

Levi leaned against the wall and his eyes scanned over Neal as if he where looking for answers. "What you in for?"

Neal sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk and rolled his eyes. "I'm in for four years." He smiled sarcastically.

"Four years huh? Well I guess that eliminates the top two candidates."

Neal frowned and looked up at him, not sure what he meant by that, "What do you mean?"

"Look I get it, you don't want to tell me what you're serving your time for. But coming in here with only four years on your sentence, well that just says you're small fry."

"Small fry?"

"Yeah. You're not in for something hard like murder or rape. So what'd ya do, piss off the bosses daughter?"

Neal looked back down at the floor not wanting to reply. He had never been in prison, but he knew to be careful who he tangled with.

"Listen kid. I'm not your enemy. You're going to face plenty of those in here." Levi stared at Neal waiting for him to respond. But when he kept silent, he continued, "Myself, I got five years for B&E, then another two years for possession of an illegal fire arm. I've got three years left."

Levi had a gruff exterior but he did seem genuinely kind. There was something about his demeanor and tone that put Neal more at ease. Neal looked back up and smiled, "Bond forgery."

"Forgery, must of not been very good if it landed you in here."

"I was plenty good. Let's just say I made a mistake."

"Wait a second, are you the kid the FBI caught? The one that loves art?"

"How do you know that?"

"You're a legend around here Picasso. At least among the thieves. They talk about how there is this master mind kid keeping the FBI on it's toes. Taking millions."

Neal rolled his eyes and leaned back against the wall as he sat on the bed. "Yeah, well a lot of good it did me."

"You need to be careful boy."

"What do you mean."

"Pretty face like yours, in a place like this, you walked in here with a target on your back."

"Any advice?"

"Yeah. There's only two ways you survive in this place, one, keep your head down and do your best to stay invisible and be their puppy. Or two, take em on and pay your dues."

"What did you do?"

"I paid my dues." Levi held his hand up, it was covered in scars from his hand to his elbow from a severe burn, his skin looked like it had been melted. "Let's just say they leave me alone now." Levi smiled, yet there was a flicker of remorse in his emerald eyes, for the price he had to pay.

Neal looked out past the bars of his cell in to the large open Prison room. The building was filled with men who wouldn't think twice about committing another crime inside the joint. He realized Levi was right. He had come in with a target on his back. He would never be someone's pawn. If it meant he had to pay a price, then he had to prepare himself for that.

* * *

Thanks for your reviews and reading.


	2. Chapter 2

Here is the next chapter. Let me know what you guys think. If you like I will keep writing with this story.

* * *

Chapter Two

Neal's first night in prison was long and sleep deprived. His mind raced with thoughts of what horrors awaited him in the days to follow. The sounds of the prison where mind numbing. Men calling out death threats to those who wronged them, cries of pain and fear from prisoners in distress from the violence they suffered, echoed through the hallways. There was a flood of emotions that resonated in the cold night air, anger, hate, betrayal, agony, torment. All emotions Neal feared. But in a place like this, they were emotions he knew he could not escape.

Morning came with more unpleasant experiences. The sound of the prison guards pacing the alleyway screaming while they beat their batons on the side of the cell bars. It would have served as a rude awakening had Neal gotten any sleep throughout the night.

Levi jumped from his top bunk onto the floor; his bitter face gave evidence that he was not a morning person. He grumbled out something to one of the guards just as he made his way passed their cell, just out of ear shot. He looked back at Neal who was still in bed consumed by his observation of what prison life was like. "Hey, Picasso! When the guards arrive, it's time to look alive. Got me?" He barked it out as if he was angry, but Neal understood it was him giving a prison tip.

Neal nodded his head and quickly stood to his feet beside Levi. Suddenly the cell doors all flung open simultaneously. Levi stepped outside of the cell and stood against the bars. Neal followed suit. He stood with his back firmly against the cold bars, his nerves were screaming inside of him, but he could not allow that to be seen. He slipped on a casual smile and then watched as all the other prisoners stepped outside of their cells and stood along the prison walls. Guards began walking up and down the aisles of criminals, their scrutinizing eyes poured over each individual man as they walked by. After the silent ritual was over, the guards began to lead them in a single file line into the dining hall for breakfast.

Neal followed behind Levi as he made his way to the breakfast bar. Levi was the only one he had met so far and he was pleased that the man seemed to be more tolerable that what he had envisioned. But Levi sensed Neal was tailing him, he quickly spun around and glared Neal in the eyes, "I'm not your savior kid, so don't expect any help from me. Scram!"

Neal was startled by the harsh tone, but he braced himself and slipped on his poised smile, "Don't flatter yourself. From the looks of your hand, you wouldn't be of much help to me anyhow."

Levi let a small growl of disapproval escape his lips. Neal stood tall to tower off the invisible threat, his bravery and boldness worn on his sleeve for the entire prison world to see. Levi huffed, and then turned his back to Neal as he proceeded toward the breakfast bar. Neal swallowed in relief that Levi backed off. But he knew his luck would eventually run out. If there was one person he knew best not to cross, it would be his cell mate, as that's the man he would spend the majority of his time with, without a guard present.

Neal managed to get through breakfast rather unnoticed. He had been assigned to work in laundry, thankfully there was not to many that seemed all that interested in him there. They all kept to themselves and served their time washing, drying, and ironing.

After the work day, they were escorted to the Rec. Yard. Neal looked around once outside and saw a group playing basketball to his right, the men looked rough, like those he knew not to tangle with. He then saw a man sitting on a bench by the fence, he looked to be younger than Neal, possibly early twenties. He did not have a threatening look about him however. Neal decided he would try to talk to him. Any information he could get out of him about anyone in the prison might give him an upper hand.

He walked over and casually sat down next to the kid. He smiled kindly, "I'm Neal."

The kid rolled his eyes, "Do I look like I care who you are?"

"Not really. But I figure I'd be nice and tell you."

"No thanks."

Neal sighed and looked back at the mean playing basketball. Another group playing cards at a table, it looked to be some kind of high stakes poker game. What they were betting was anyone guess, but Neal preferred to not know.

"Well hello Lovely." A man had approached the two. He was standing beside the kid looking down at them both.

The kid looked up and Neal saw him clench his teeth, "Just leave me alone Rocco."

"I wasn't talking to you my boy." The man slowly walked around the bench and placed his hand on Neal's shoulder, "I was talking to your friend here. The Fresh Meat." His smile was sinister. His dark hair was short and looked more like fuzz covering his head. His arms where littered with tattoos. His body was thick and strong looking. Neal cringed as the man dared to touch him. He felt his reflexes kick in and he bolted out from beneath the man's hand, "Never touch me again." Neal suddenly felt surprised himself at the forcefulness in his voice.

The man smiled largely, almost as if he were pleased about something, "Looks like we got ourselves a feisty one here boys." Three other men approached behind him, they stood still, the smiles on their faces almost looked uncomfortable.

"Name's Rocco. Listen up Lovely, with a face like that you need a certain amount of protection in a place like this. Now I can provide that for you." Rocco stepped closer to Neal, again raising his hand up to invade Neal's personal space; he gently tapped him on the cheek. "For a small price, that is."

Neal grabbed the man's hand and shoved it away from him. "No thanks. I can manage on my own."

Rocco licked his lips and smiled willfully, "Well, then, have it your way. But know this. I always get what I want. And now, I want you."

Neal took in a deep breath expanding his chest into the air. His body stance was unwavering. He was not week.

A loud horn blew in the distance, and Neal watched as the inmates rushed towards the fence. Neal turned and watched as the prison gates opened and a van drove through carrying other inmates. He stepped closer to the fence alongside the other men. Levi was beside Neal.

Four guards approached the vehicle and opened the back doors. Five men dressed in orange jumpers stepped out, their hands cuffed. Neal heard Rocco a few feet away issue out a disappointed grunt, "No fresh mean there, just new meat."

As the inmates began to return to their previous activities Neal looked at Levi, "Rocco called me Fresh Meat. What makes them New Meat?"

Levi turned and looked at Neal, his eyes trailed up and down him. "New Meat is someone who has been in prison before, just not this one. Usually a transfer. They're experienced. Fresh Meat, has never been in prison. A prison virgin."

Neal did not say a word. He turned and walked back to the young man who was still sitting on the bench. He sat down again beside him. "What can you tell me about this Rocco guy?"

The kid rolled his eyes and looked away from Neal, "Look out. Your on his radar."

"I take it that's not a good place to be?"

"Depends on the type of prison life you want."

"Where you ever on his radar?"

"Yeah. I was."

"How did you get off of it?"

He turned and looked at Neal and smiled, "You arrived." He stood up and started to walk away, then turned back around at Neal, "By the way, thanks for that. Names Ryder. Good luck, you're gonna need it."

That evening Neal laid in his bed again feeling lost in thoughts. He felt sleep evading him yet again. The ghostly sounds of the prison where back to haunt his imagination with unpleasant images. This would be yet another night that tormented his soul. He shifted in his bed, he pulled his flat pillow up around his ears trying to deafen the screams and yells of men that behaved like animals. But it only muffled the sounds, they were still bellowing through the halls of the prison.

"Picasso!"

Neal heard Levi call his name. He dropped the pillow and looked up at the bottom of the top bunk. "What?"

"What did Rocco say to you?"

Neal did not reply. He did not want to tell Levi what Rocco had said for fear that would make it real. Make it true. He just breathed through his thoughts trying to deaden the fear he wished away.

"That bad huh?" Levi's reply was spoken soft and it hinted with the slightest bit of concern.

"Yeah. That bad."

"You know. I thought you might have been able to skate by a little longer than this. But I think Rocco spotted you the day you got off that bus."

"You're probably right."

"You know, he wants you to be his puppet, right."

"Well he can keep on dreaming."

"You refuse him, it's not going to be pretty."

"I know."

"You prepared to face that music?"

"I have to pay my dues right?"

"Picasso, you got one crazy ride ahead of you."

"Any advice?"

"Yeah, don't cry."

* * *

Again Your Reviews are much appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for reading. Here is another chapter. Hope you enjoy, and I love reading your reviews.

* * *

Chapter Three

For more than a week Neal managed to avoid Rocco. He stayed out of sight when he had the opportunity to hide; when hiding was not an option he managed to stay near a guard. Rocco always made sure Neal knew he remained the object of his desire, despite the many inconveniences Neal managed to employ; by staring him down, licking his lips, or gesturing in a threatening way at him.

Neal was aware that eventually he would have to face Rocco, he would have to face the consequences of standing his ground against the perverted convict. Levi also knew what Neal was up against. He remained silent about it however. It was a battle Neal had to face on his own. When you're in prison, it's every man for himself. Levi was not about to get involved, he knew what was down that road, he had been there himself, and he would never go back.

Sunday afternoon was the day off from normal Prison duties. The General Population Room was left open for the inmates to mingle among themselves. Cell doors were left open throughout the day, convicts came and went as they pleased. Guards stood by at the four corners of the open room, there ready to intercede should things get out of hand amongst the men. Neal chose to remain in his cell, he hoped to avoid any confrontation with Rocco or any other violent men he had yet to meet.

Levi stood just outside of the cell doors talking with another prisoner. Neal could not hear anything that was said due to the roar of chattering voices that choked out any other sound. He laid in his bed and just watched the commotion in the GenPop room. The sounds in the room reminded Neal of an airport or train station. People talking and arguing, rushing back and forth in search of someone or something. He leaned his head back as he watched Levi deeply engaged in conversation. His eyes drifted closed, the lack of sleep he sustained over the past week was quickly taking its toll on him.

The noise gradually became as a hum in his ears. He was slipping into a deep sleep, a much needed and welcomed deep sleep.

He was jolted awake when her heard Levi's voice, "Hey, Picasso!"

Neal opened his eyes and saw Levi standing in the doorway to their shared cell.

"Yeah?" he sleepily replied.

"I'm going to check in on a friend downstairs, you wanna come?" Levi wasn't exactly sure why he asked Neal. He had a feeling that deep down he was worried about the kid. He didn't seem to have a violent bone in his body. And he knew he was the prey of a great hunter at the moment. He almost regretted asking the question the moment it escaped his mouth. He did not want to get involved. It would be much better if Rocco came for Neal when he wasn't around, that would make staying out of it easier. He felt relieved when Neal shook his head no. He just turned and walked away. It was better this way.

Neal let his eyes drift closed again. He needed to rest, he prayed for sleep to overtake him. And slowly it did. While he slept his dreams where welcoming. They opened him up to a different reality, one with him still on the outside. Living life in luxury, eating fine foods, drinking fine wines, seducing beautiful women. He longed for that life again. The Agent who caught him, Peter Burke, had no idea what he had done to him putting him behind these prison walls. It was no place for a young man like Neal Caffrey.

Neal knew that Agent Burke could care less about that. In his eyes he was a criminal and he was where criminals belonged, no matter their status or their style. Despite how badly Peter Burke acted like he hated him, Neal felt somehow drawn to the man. As if he were somehow a saving force in a twisted sort of way. He could not make sense of it, but he hoped one day to find out what that might mean to him.

"Well hello there Lovely." Neal heard the cold words uttered in a slow dark tone. His eyes sprung open immediately as he looked up and saw Rocco standing in his cell, looking down at him. Neal quickly sprung to his feet and stepped backwards away from the man. His three thug friends lingered close behind just outside of the cell doors.

"Get out!" Neal ordered.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, now you don't get to give orders around here my boy. That's my job." Rocco stepped closer to Neal, cornering him in the back of the cell behind the bunk beds.

Neal clinched his teeth and took another step back, his back braced against the rear wall of the cell. With nowhere left to hide, he took a deep breath and pushed forward, crowding back into Rocco's personal space. "What do you want Rocco?"

Rocco smiled and looked back at the three men behind him, "Isn't he a pretty one boy's." he turned back to face Neal, who had a look of profound determination on his face. He reached his hand up and gently stroked the side of Neal's cheek. Neal slapped his hand away from his face. Rocco only laughed, "Oh how I love it when they play hard to get."

Neal stepped forward again; he wanted to crowd Rocco out of his cell. But Rocco refused to back away, bringing Neal within inches of the man's face. Neal could feel his hot breath against his skin, the stench of rotting teeth made his stomach churn. "Get out!" Neal barked.

Suddenly before Neal realized what happened Rocco had his hand at Neal's throat. The grip was like a vice, closing off his air supply, his cold hand was threatening to squeeze away his life. He felt his fear kick into overdrive, but his common sense suppressed the fear. He stood motionless and stared Rocco in the eyes. Rocco hissed through his teeth, "You're mine pretty boy. It's time you accept that."

"Get out Rocco." Levi was now standing behind Rocco. His tone was firm and he growled it under his breath in anger.

Rocco released his grip on Neal's throat and slowly turned around to face Levi. "I do hope you're not trying to protect the kid, Levi. That would be a mistake on your part."

Levi stepped sideways to allow room for Rocco to exit the tiny cell, "No, whatever you want with the kid is between you and him. Just so long as it doesn't happen in my block."

Rocco snarled as he walked passed Levi exiting the cell. "Well do this later boys. Let's go."

Neal reached up with his hand and rubbed his throat where the death grip had its hold. He looked at Levi almost with a smile of gratitude but was quickly cut off by Levi's reply.

"Don't think I did that for you kid. Cause I didn't. Rocco and I had an agreement he would stay out of my block and I'd stay out of his. That was just me reminding him of that agreement. It had nothing to do with you." Levi jumped onto the top bunk. He pulled a handkerchief over his eyes as he laid down.

Neal sat back down on the bottom bunk and leaned back against the wall. He tried to slow his breathing down as well as his heart rate. That was a close call, even if Levi had not intervened on his behalf, he was still thankful to him all the same. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. "Well thanks just the same."

He was met with no reply from Levi. Even though the man seemed the least bit interested in helping him, he did feel somewhat safer with him around. He felt helpless in this world. He could con his way out of just about anything outside these walls. But here it was a different story. Here he had no money to use as leverage, no skills he could use to climb his way out of dire situations. Nothing. But there had to be something, there was always something. He just needed to learn more about prison life, in order to come up with something that he could work with.

"Levi? Is there anyone here that is Rocco's enemy?"

Levi pulled the handkerchief off of his face and stared up at the ceiling as he thought about Neal's question. Hesitantly he replied, "Yeah. There is."

"Who?"

"I know what you're thinking Picasso, but you don't want to mess with him. He's more trouble than Rocco."

"Who Levi?"

There was a long pause, Levi was not sure if this information was the right thing to tell the kid. He knew what he wanted and he also knew it was taking your life in your own hands to go down that road. But he had said he wouldn't get involved and it was Neal's choice what he would do if he had the name of Rocco's enemy. "His name is Ike Lacey but he goes by Icey."

"Why haven't I seen or heard of him since I've been here?"

"He tried to kill a guy and got three months in solitary confinement."

"How long does he have left in solitary?"

"Two months."

"What gets a guy into solitary?"

"Picasso, you're barking up the wrong tree. Trust me you don't want to be placed in solitary. That place makes a guy go crazy. You need to come up with a different plan. And one that does not involve Icey. He's crazier than Rocco."

"I think I need someone crazier than Rocco."

"You go after Icey, then you are crazier than Rocco. Even Rocco knows to stay clear of him."

Neal sighed and laid down on his bed. He could hear the guards calling out for the men to return to their cells. After a few minutes the cell doors all slid shut, the lights began to shut off like a domino effect down the corridors and cell blocks. It was another night to be faced in the confinements of the prison walls, Neal could feel his sleep yet again being chased away by the sounds of the prison. He knew what he had to do, and he knew it would be hard. He needed to pull the biggest con of his life on a man most feared more than anyone else. And yet there was nothing that could prepare him for the task at hand.


	4. Chapter 4

Hope you enjoy this chapter. And I love your reviews they keep me writing.

* * *

Chapter Four

Life in prison is anything but pleasant. It's a life that instills fear and dread for the next day and what it may unfold in one's life. There is a cruel and unusual structure to the prison hierarchy, one you never want to find yourself at the bottom of. But sadly that's where you start on arrival at the prison. It's through your own strengths and might that you work your way up to the top, and it always comes at a price.

Neal feared what his price would be. His anxiety haunted him, chasing his sleep away, night after painstaking night. As the days passed his tired eyes lost their sparkle, his sly spirit dulled to a dim shadow of the man he once was. His debonair smile faded to a glum aura, and his willpower began to weaken. He slowly became as a ghost of Neal Caffrey. He spent his nights lying awake staring at the top bunk, he often simply picked at his food in the cafeteria, eating little if anything at all. In the rec. yard he simply sat alone to himself staring at the ground, giving little response to Rocco when he attempted to press him for some type of action. He knew he would never have a chance with Rocco's three body guards always close by.

Levi witnessed his cell mates resolve being eaten away by the corrosion of prison life. He had seen it happen enough times to recognize the sign's when a man was close to his breaking point. The empty gazes, the dark circles under the eyes, the lack of appetite, the absence of sleep, and even the emotionless responses to questions. Neal had them all. He was close to giving in. Levi attempted to ignore the signs. It was not his problem to deal with, and if Neal was going to give in that easily, he felt he deserved it. Levi was the type of man that fought to the bitter end, endured the torture both mental and physical. If it broke you, you were weak, and you deserved to be broken.

But Neal was strong. He was much stronger than he had ever been given credit for. People often viewed him as weak, and he used that to his advantage. This time was no different. He allowed himself to appear like he was losing the battle, like the prison chaos was crushing his determination. But it was doing the opposite. He was doing what he does best, pulling a con. That's what he did, he conned people, and criminals where no different, there where after all still people.

One afternoon in the rec. yard, Levi was busy playing basketball with fellow cons, Neal sat silently on a bench nearby staring at the ground. Rocco approached as he often did, ready and prepared to hurl insults in his attempts to get a rise out of the conman.

"Hello there, Lovely. You know, I am getting tired of waiting for you to accept your fate. Maybe it's time my waiting ended."

Neal sat motionless without response. His eyes cast down to the ground.

Rocco leaned down and positioned his mouth against Neal's ear. "I knew eventually you're fight would wear down. Patience is a virtue."

Neal slowly closed his eyes and he let his body relax, releasing his tense muscles. His eyes looked defeated. He glanced up at Rocco and slowly nodded his head, "I'm done fighting."

Rocco's sickly smile stretched across his lips, "Good, let's make a visit back to my block." He reached down and gripped Neal by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Neal did not fight him, he stood and allowed Rocco to push him back into the GenPop area.

Levi was watching. He felt sick when he saw Neal surrender so easily. How could anyone give up without at least trying to fight. He felt anger that the man he thought Neal was, was a lie. He was not the sly conman that evaded the FBI for so long. Not anymore.

Rocco pushed Neal into his cell. Neal stepped backwards a couple of steps as Rocco crowded towards him. The smile of satisfaction on Rocco's face made Neal want to hurl. He clenched his teeth and quickly looked down at the floor.

Rocco slowly began to unbuckle the belt around his waist. He licked his lips, "You really are a pretty thing."

Neal refused to look into his eyes. He took another step back.

"Now don't be shy." Rocco's slick words sent chills down Neal's spine.

"I'm not shy." Neal spoke in a low tone.

Rocco stepped closer and leaned in trying to capture Neal's gaze, "No? Then what are you boy?"

Neal slowly raised his head and his eye's met with Rocco's, but the weak look that was present moments ago was now gone, it was replaced with anger and vengeance. Rocco suddenly felt threatened and he stumbled backwards. Before he could take more than two steps Neal's hand was around his throat, his thumb was pressed deeply into Rocco's collar bone.

Rocco felt his legs buckle beneath him, Neal shoved him down on to the bottom bunk, his hand never leaving Rocco's throat. He dropped his head close to Rocco's face and a cunning smile took its place on his face. "I have blocked the blood flow to your brain. The first thing you will experience is paralysis, next will be the loss of vision, followed by the inability to breathe on your own. You see, you only thought I was breaking down, but I was just allowing you to let your guard down. And that is where you made your mistake, you did not view me as a threat so you stopped approaching me with your thugs to back you up. Now you know what I am capable of. I am going to let go in a few minutes just before your breathing stops. But if you ever, come after me again, you will learn what suffocation feels like." Neal released his grip on Rocco's throat and stood to his feet. He stared down at the man who tried to shake off the odd sensation that Neal had inflicted upon him.

Rocco looked up and snarled with his lip, he attempted to talk but his words were hoarse and difficult for him to get out, "You…..pay….for…..this."

Neal leaned down again and raised his hand as if he were going for Rocco's throat again. Rocco quickly dodged away from him. Neal smiled, "This was just the beginning, Rocco. You will pay for every wrong you have ever committed against another inmate. I swear to you on that." Neal stood and walked back into the GenPop room. The prisoners were beginning to flood inside as the end of the Rec yard time had let up.

Neal headed back to his block. As he walked in Levi was sitting on the top bunk, he frowned at Neal as he walked in. "I'm disappointed in you Picasso."

Neal furrowed his brow and looked at Levi, "Disappointed? For what?"

"For caving. Yeah, I saw you just give it up to Rocco."

"Give it up?"

"You let him get to you. I thought you might have been tougher than that. Guess I was wrong."

"I didn't cave."

"Whatever." Levi kicked his feet up onto the bed as he laid down. He crossed his arms behind his head and grumbled something in Spanish under his breath.

"Levi, I played him. I needed him to see me as no threat to him. That way he would stop brining his goons around when he made his attempt."

Levi raised up onto one elbow so he could look at Neal, "Why?"

"So I could make my point."

"Oh, and what point might that be Picasso? You're easy? Cause that's what everyone in the yard saw today."

"I needed him to know what I am capable of."

"You could never take on Rocco. The guy weighs twice as much as you. So what could you possibly be capable of?" Levi sarcastically snarled.

"Get down."

Levi glared skeptically at Neal, he hesitated for a few seconds but eventually complied and slipped back onto the floor. He stood in front of Neal and rolled his eyes, "Okay, show me capable. But know this, I can and will take you down."

Neal looked down at the floor as if he were having second thoughts, "You're right. You can beat me."

"That's what I thought." Levi turned to pull himself back onto the top bunk, but Neal's hand was around his Neck, his thumb dug into his collar bone. Levi felt weakness in his lower body and his began to fall to the ground. Neal reached around his waist and gentle eased him back onto the bottom bed. He released his hold on his neck and smiled. "It's not always about brute force or strength. Sometimes, it's just knowing where to hit the right spot."

Levi fluttered his eyes, he felt stunned by the unexpected silent assault. He quickly looked up at Neal, his eyes burned with anger. Neal's smile gradually weakened and he took a step backwards. He held his hand up to try and calm his cell mate, "Whoa, I was just showing you what I did. I didn't mean…"

Levi's furrowed brow began to dissipate, his lips spread into a smile, "Shit, Picasso."

Neal smiled and felt his tension leave his body.

"You did that to Rocco?"

"Yeah, only I held on longer so I could get my message across."

"What makes you think he took that as a real threat?"

"Well I told him that the next time I would hold on until he stopped breathing."

"That crap will make you stop breathing?"

"Well no, not really. But he doesn't know that."

"You bluffed?"

"I did. But that's what I'm good at. Bluffing."

"You got some serious huevos, Picasso."

Neal smiled and sat down on the bed beside Levi. "Well that was just the beginning."

"The beginning?"

"Now I'm a threat to him. He's planning on his revenge."

"So what's your next move?"

"Icey."


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry this chapter took a little longer. I have been dealing with being sick, and when I am sick I don't have much of a creative edge to write. But here is the first chapter in the Icey Con. Hope you enjoy reading, and please I love your reviews.

* * *

Chapter Five

Neal spent several days gathering as much information as he could on Icey, from his fellow inmates. He did his best to do so in an inconspicuous way, trying not to attract attention to himself and his rather odd curiosity in the fearsome man.

He had learned that Icey was a member of a rather notorious gang in New York, known as The Blood Barons. He was in prison for the murder of three members of The Blood Barons who had been labeled traitors within the gang. However many of the inmates swore that he had killed more than what he served his time for. Neal had yet to see the man, as he was still in solitary, but the fear he heard in others gave him a clear picture of the type of man he was seeking out. Many of the inmates talked of him as if he were more than an average man possibly possessing sinister powers; some swore that evil began within his bloodline. But Neal knew that was their own fear talking, he could see passed the façade of horror, he knew he was just an average man. And like any man, he could be conned.

Neal walked out of the prison into the Rec. Yard. He paused as his eyes scanned the large open fenced in field. He saw Rocco to his left with his men leaning up against the fence. Rocco's eyes followed Neal as he moved across the field. He could feel their burning gaze upon him, he could sense Rocco was plotting to exact revenge upon Neal.

Neal spotted Levi straddling a metal bench on the opposite side. He began to approach him, ignoring Rocco's threatening glares. Once he was at Levi's side, Levi glanced up at him and gave a half smile, "Making any progress on that plan of yours?"

"Working on it. I need to ask you something."

"Then ask, but I can't promise that I'll answer."

"What's the best way for me to approach Icey when he gets out of solitary?"

"You're asking for trouble Picasso. Besides no one just walks up to Icey without getting passed his men first. And his men never let anyone passed them."

"Who are Icey's men?"

Levi turned his head and looked over at a group of men sitting at a table playing poker. "That's Icey's crew."

Neal turned and looked at the men. They were all covered in tattoos from head to toe. Three of the four had shaved heads. The men looked threatening without even saying a word. But the third man looked out of place, he was much smaller than the other three, his hair was disheveled and he had virgin un-inked skin. He even acted like he was where he did not belong the way he nervously fidgeted with his cards, constantly shifted his position. "Someone looks out of place."

Levi raised his eyebrows and glanced back at Neal, "Good eye. You're right, the light weight's not part of Icey's crew. He's a buy in."

"A buy in?"

"Yeah he bought his way into the game. He's trying to get protection by winning the game."

Neal eased down onto the bench beside Levi, "Protection? So if he wins the game Icey's crew grants him protection?"

"No, it doesn't matter if he wins or not he's crap out of luck. Well he's out of a lot more if he wins."

"Then why would he think that?"

"Because that's what all the new fish think, that's what Icey's men tell them. But it's just a scam."

"What happens if he wins?"

"He better pray he doesn't, cause if he does, Icey puts a hit out on his head."

"And if he loses he's none the wiser and in the same boat he was in before the game."

"Yep. It's a sick and twisted game."

Neal watched as the men played their game. He observed every move they made, every fidget and every tell sign they offered. After several minutes Neal looked back over at Levi, "What's the buy in?"

"We're not allowed money in prison, instead we are paid with what we call prison stamps, you buy in with those stamps. The buy in is $50. Why?"

"I want to buy in."

"What? I just told you it was a scam and you still want to risk your life for nothing?"

"I have an idea."

Levi rolled his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know if you're brave or suicidal. How can buying your way into that game do you any good?"

Neal had a sly smile grace his lips as he looked back at the men playing poker, "You'll see. Do you happen to have a stamp?"

"Yeah sure, but there is no way I have $50 worth of stamps."

"That's fine, I only need one."

"One? How's that going to do you any good?"

Neal looked back at Levi and leaned forward slightly, his voice softened as he spoke, "I'm going to show you why you call me Picasso."

Levi frowned in curiosity as he watched his cell mate's confidence surmount. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm in here for bond forgery, how hard do you think it will be to forge a prison stamp?"

Levi's eyes widened as he began to understand what Neal meant, "You are crazy Picasso, you know that. Crazy."

"I need to see your stamp so I can figure out what I need to create the forgeries."

"I'll give it to you tonight when we are back in the block."

Later that evening Levi picked up a book that was laying on the top bunk. He opened the back cover and pulled out a piece of paper that was the size of a post it note. It was rather simple in design, much different than US currency. Neal's smile spread as he took the stamp from Levi's hand. "They don't exactly make these hard to duplicate now do they."

"Maybe not for someone like you."

"Who do I talk to about getting supplies smuggled into the prison?"

"That'd be Crazy-8. He can get just about anything, for a price."

"Of course, after all money does talk."

"There's a problem with your plan Picasso."

"What?"

"You've only been here three weeks, there is no way Icey or his men will believe you have been able to make that kind of money in here. And you defiantly don't have the look of someone that took it by force."

"That is a problem." Neal looked back down at the stamp in his hand. He knew he would have trouble passing this plan off on his own. He needed a partner. He looked back up at Levi, "But you could."

Levi held his hand up and waived it in front of Neal's face, "Uh uh. No! This is your plan. I have managed to survive on my own for four years, I don't plan on jeopardizing that record. You're on your own Picasso."

"Come on Levi, all you have to do is use the forged stamps for the buy in, then lose. That's it. There is no risk to you, I swear."

"How is this plan even going to work."

"I can't tell you. The less you know the better."

"Then I'm defiantly out."

"Levi, I can't do this without you. Trust me."

"Trust you? I don't trust anyone but myself. It ain't happening kid. If you can't do it without me, then I suggest you come up with a new plan, one that doesn't involve me." Levi turned and jumped up onto the top bunk.

Neal slid the stamp back inside the back of the book. He sat down on the bottom bunk and ran his fingers through his hair. He knew without Levi's help this plan would be much harder to pull off. But he was determined and he was willing to try even at the risk of it failing.

Neal discovered the materials he needed where already within the prison walls. It took him three days to retrieve them from the supply room, but it was much easier than he had anticipated. He knew the hardest part of this plan would be pulling it off without arousing suspicion from Icey or his men.

It took him two weeks to forge enough stamps for the buy in. He worked nights, depriving his body of sleep. He struggled to keep his work at a high quality despite his exhaustion. Levi often woke late at night to the sound of Neal's brush strokes against the surface. He looked over his shoulder several times and found himself amazed at the young man's ability. He was astonished that he was unable to tell the real stamp from the forgeries.

The night Neal finished with the last stamp; Levi sat up most of the night looking down at Neal from his top bunk as he worked his magic on the paper. Neal was so engulfed in his work he was unaware of his audience.

"You're incredible Picasso."

Neal was startled at the soft spoken words. He turned and looked up at the amazed look in Levi's eyes. "Thank you."

"When do you plan on using these?"

"Tomorrow."

"I still think you're crazy. But good luck, you're going to need it." Levi turned back around laying on his back his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

Neal looked back down at his almost finished stamp, his voice was soft and low, "Yeah. Thanks." He was worried that he would not be able to pull this plan off. But there was no turning back, at least not for Neal.

The next day when they were in the RecYard again, Neal was sitting on a bench; he was watching Icey's crew as they gathered around the table where they always sat for their poker games. Neal looked down at his hand where he held the five forged stamps that equaled $50. He could feel his nerves threatening to break free into trembling in his hands, but he masked it.

He watched as the men began to deal out the cards amongst themselves. He knew the moment he walked up to them and presented the buy in; he would be met with scrutinizing questions. They would be suspicious of him and his intentions. Of the strangeness of him coming across that amount, in such a short period of time. He knew he would have to play it cool, he would have to put on the best con he had yet to perform.

He stood up and began walking towards the men. He could feel his heart rate increase with each step he took, bringing him closer and closer to the danger that he could be placing himself in. He could hear his breathing quicken, he felt his palms begin to seep with sweat. He had never found it so difficult to maintain his suave persona. He feared the men would see right through him.

He was now only feet from their table, they had yet to notice him. He tried quickly to compose himself, to prepare himself for what lie in wait for him. He quickly closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, he tried to force his heart rate to calm. He swallowed hard then opened his eyes. The men were still oblivious to his presence, wrapped up in their own game. He was ready, at least as ready as he could ever be. He stepped forward and was about to announce his presence to the men, when he felt a firm grip on his arm. It jerked him backwards the spun him around. When his world stopped spinning, his eyes settled on Levi.

"You can't do this Picasso. It's signing your death certificate with your own hand."

"I'm not backing out. I'm doing this."

Levi looked down at the ground and gritted his teeth, he raised his eyes back up and stared at Neal, "I can't let you do this. I won't let you do this." He held his hand out with his palm facing up, "Give me the stamps."

Neal frowned, "You said you didn't want to be involved."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Now give me the damn stamps before I change it back."

"You don't have to do this."

Levi gripped Neal by the arm and reached into Neal's shirt pocket, removing the stamps. "You mean I don't have to let you get killed?"

"Why?"

"Cause maybe I like having you around."

Neal smiled, "You like me?"

"Don't go getting all mushy about it." Levi shoved the stamps into his pocket and released Neal's arm. He looked back up at him and smiled, "But, okay yeah, I kinda like ya. Now get out of my way while I go lose these fake stamps in a poker game."


End file.
